


Stealing Kisses

by fhartz91



Series: Klaine One-shots [24]
Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe, Crushes, Dalton Academy, Drabble, First Kiss, Fluff, High School, Kissing, M/M, Minor Angst, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-14
Updated: 2015-09-26
Packaged: 2018-04-14 17:35:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,264
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4573476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fhartz91/pseuds/fhartz91
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While studying for a history test, Blaine falls asleep in Kurt's bed, which means Kurt is not going to be getting any sleep. Instead, he daydreams what kissing Blaine might be like. If he steals one kiss on the cheek to find out, that wouldn't be too bad...would it?</p><p>Based off this prompt http://the-prompter.tumblr.com/post/126611500768/robopou-imagine-person-a-of-your-otp-trying-to.</p><p>Dalton AU that assumes that Dalton is a boarding school and that Kurt and Blaine are in the same grade.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Stealing Kisses

Blaine sniffs. He mumbles. His breath catches in his throat for one…two…three seconds, then he breathes out through his lips, sighing into the dark. He smiles, small and with the right corner of his mouth as he mumbles something unintelligible, followed by a single laugh. He tightens his arms crossed over his chest, and his entire face relaxes. Then he snores softly.

Kurt smiles, trapping a giggle behind his lips. It’s the most adorable thing. _Blaine_ is the most adorable thing.

Kurt just wishes he had the nerve to tell him.

As it is, Kurt feels really creepy doing this – watching Blaine sleep. Isn’t that one step above stalker?

It’s late. Later than late. It’s actually tomorrow morning and Kurt should have been asleep himself hours ago. But he can’t sleep because Blaine’s asleep.

Blaine fell asleep studying.

He fell asleep in Kurt’s bed.

That alone ensured there was no way Kurt was getting any sleep.

The beds in the Dalton dorm rooms are narrower than normal twin-size beds, but longer, which makes no sense unless you assume that every student is taller than six feet and doesn’t roll over while they sleep. Maybe they’re made that way to discourage co-bunking.

Well, it doesn’t work.

From this distance, arms touching, Kurt can feel Blaine breathe. He can smell his aftershave. He can hear the murmuring noises he makes while he dreams – tiny grumbles, snippets of words, and a few hummed lyrics. Kurt didn’t think Blaine would be such an active sleeper.

As for Kurt, he usually falls asleep lying on his side and wakes up lying on his side, so he doesn’t think he moves around too much. Kurt is not a fan of sleeping on his back, but that’s the position he’s stuck in now, and his butt has fallen asleep, but he’s afraid that if he rolls over, or shifts, or moves in any way, Blaine will wake up.

And if he wakes up, he might leave.

Kurt doesn’t want that.

But Kurt’s not comfortable this way, sandwiched between Blaine’s body and the wall to his left. On top of the discomfort of his steadily stiffening muscles and his numb lower half, they’re sleeping in their Dalton uniforms. They didn’t bother changing after class let out, not even into a pair of sweats, before this unscheduled sleepover, when Blaine drifted off in the middle of cramming for their history final in the morning.

If this had been a Friday night, they might have been at Kurt’s house, falling asleep together in his king-size bed, where Kurt could adore Blaine while lying comfortably on his side from a minimum safe distance. But smushed together like this, not only does Kurt’s body ache, a multitude of his secret daydreams start springing to mind, niggling at him, trying to give him courage to act one or two of them out.

Admittedly, some of them border on sexual harassment, so he pushes those out of his head.

But most of them are tame, more along the lines of _Sweet Valley High_ than _50 Shades of Grey_. Kurt’s a teenaged boy with a pulse. He’s had fantasies of Blaine falling asleep beside him before, here in his dorm room, though in his dreams, this bed is a lot bigger. Usually they start off kissing – kissing until their lips are sore and they’re both breathless. Kisses that give hands the impetus to roam and explore, touching, caressing, undressing. Kurt threads his fingers into Blaine’s (gel free) hair, and Blaine reaches down between them, knuckles brushing the skin of Kurt’s chest, leaving a trail of goose flesh, reaching for his belt, toying with the buckle, then…that’s usually when he wakes up. But it doesn’t matter if the fantasy doesn’t get sexier than that. It still makes his heart race, makes him sweat beneath his thin sheet, makes his body overheat.

Makes eating breakfast together mildly uncomfortable.

Kurt looks over Blaine’s sleeping face, handsome with his eyes shut and his lips parted, like a debonair Sleeping Beauty. Kurt continues to imagine what it would be like to kiss Blaine, even on the cheek. Would his skin be as soft as it looks? Would it smell as good close up as it does from this distance?

If he could bring himself to kiss Blaine on the mouth, how would he taste?

A throb from below his belt tells him that that might be going a little too far, but one kiss on the cheek - that wouldn’t hurt anyone, would it? It’s polite, continental – it’s endearing. And best of all, it might be easier to explain away if Blaine ever found out.

_Oh God, please don’t let him find out._

Kurt doesn’t know how he’s talked himself into thinking this is a good idea, but before he can worry too much over it, he finds himself rolling to his side, slowly forcing numb muscles to move, trying his hardest not to shake the bed. He inches closer, holding his breath, not wanting a single puff of air to hit Blaine’s cheek and wake him.

Kurt finds a way around Blaine’s shoulder, hovering in an awkward way to keep from touching. His neck strains to lengthen as he moves in closer, lips traveling the last half inch when he can’t go any farther. He stares a moment at this sight of Blaine close up – lips plump and pink, slight stubble on his cheek, his eyelashes insanely and unfairly long for a teenaged boy. Not primped for school, unshaven, with the top button of his collar undone and his tie askew, he looks ruggedly attractive, proving that the uber-versatile Blaine Devon Anderson doesn’t just transcend levels of compassion, intelligence (he speaks six languages, for crying out loud), and musical acuity, but can cross the boundaries from dapper to devilishly good-looking without any effort.

Damn him. If Kurt wasn’t so smitten, he might just hate him.

A cramp brewing in Kurt’s lower back urges him forward, and his lips press against Blaine’s cheek…right as he rolls over on to his side. Kurt’s lips swipe across his skin, and when they reach the corner of Blaine’s mouth, Blaine’s eyes pop open.

Apparently, for all of his mumbling and sniffing and occasional laughing, Blaine is actually a light sleeper.

Good to know.

Kurt’s eyes go wide and he scoots across the sheets, stopping when his back hits the wall.

“I’m sorry,” he says. He feels his cheeks burning, glowing in the dark, the heat making his eyes water. “I didn’t mean to…I mean…I meant to, but I…”

Kurt can’t get a complete sentence out, and Blaine hasn’t said a word. Blaine blinks his eyes once. Kurt would say he looks confused, but he can’t read Blaine’s face. He could be flattered, amused, or extremely pissed off.

_Oh God._

“Blaine, I’m so sor---“

“You missed.”

“What---?” Kurt asks, but even before the word passes his lips, Blaine reaches a hand behind his head, fingers weaving gently into his hair, pulling him in, pulling him close. When their lips connect, it’s nothing like Kurt expects, but for a first kiss, even a sleepy first kiss, it’s everything he wants. It’s not demanding – no tongue this time around - but it’s not tight lipped and uncomfortable. It’s as easy as taking a breath in, and there Blaine is, filling Kurt’s senses, the smell of his skin stronger than that of the aftershave he uses, his lips parted, caressing Kurt’s, and the taste of his mouth – sweeter than Kurt could have ever imagined. And those cute little noises Blaine made that Kurt thought were so adorable while he slept are downright hot when they’re murmured into his mouth.

Blaine moves away before Kurt does, leaving Kurt purse-lipped in the open air. Blaine smiles, shuts his eyes, then turns away from Kurt, and quicker than Kurt thought possible, starts snoring again.

“Blaine?” Kurt whispers, hoping to rouse him before he falls into too deep a sleep. Unless he was asleep this whole time. Blaine’s a sleep kisser? Well that’s…unusual. “Blaine? Are you awake? Tell me if you’re awake?” But Blaine doesn’t answer, and Kurt feels caught between disappointment and relief. He sighs, raising a hand to run his fingertips over his lips, chasing the fading tingle, that sweet taste of Blaine’s mouth still lingering in his. “You’re not going to remember that kiss in the morning, are you?” Kurt asks, settling for defeated.

“Of course I am, Kurt,” Blaine mutters, reaching behind him for Kurt’s arm to wrap around his body. “I've wanted to do that forever. Now go to sleep. We’ll kiss more after we ace that history test.”

 

 

 


	2. A Steamy Situation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Following the awkward but still epic kiss from the night before, Kurt discovers something about Blaine that he never realized was an issue...or ever thought would bring them closer together. 
> 
> (Written by request from AncientGleek.)

"So, what did you get for number 23?" Kurt asks, crossing his fingers in hopes that he got the answer right.

"Number 23? Oh…uh…what was that one again?" Blaine asks, talking louder than usual to be heard above the shower spray.

"It was the one about the Battle of 1812," Kurt prompts. He watches as Blaine, visible only in silhouette behind the white shower curtain, stops washing his hair to think. Kurt waits for a response, and meanwhile, a pregnant pause grows. Obviously, Blaine doesn't remember. Kurt, obscured from Blaine's view by the shower curtain and a thick fog of steam (which is killing Kurt's coif, but doing wonders for his pores) rolls his eyes. It must be nice to be so secure in your intelligence that you don't freak out after a test the way Kurt is right now.

Back at McKinley, Kurt wouldn't have been this nervous. But the classes at Dalton are much harder, college level even. Besides, he has to give himself a little credit. He jumped in head-first in the middle of the semester, whereas everyone else, Blaine included, has had months, if not years, to get used to things around here.

Yup. Sounds good. Kurt's going to stick with that.

Kurt waits a minute longer for an answer, then sighs in frustration when he doesn't get it (or jealousy, but they're so closely linked at the moment, he's not sure which is which).

"What were the causes of the long and bitter conflict…"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Blaine says, sputtering while he scrubs his face. "The War of 1812. I remember. The answer to that one was C."

Kurt squeezes his fingers tighter. "Are you _sure_?" he asks.

"Oh, absolutely," Blaine says, turning off the shower water. "It was C. Cutting off trade with America."

"Oh thank God," Kurt says, breathing easy again. If all of Blaine's answers are correct (and they probably are) then Kurt only got one wrong. He can deal with that.

"Do you feel better now?" Blaine asks, chuckling at Kurt's unnecessary worrying. They'd gone over that chapter at least five times the night before. There's no way either of them could have gotten that question wrong.

"Much," Kurt says, resting against the tile behind him and tilting his head to the right to watch Blaine dry off. Even in shadow form, Blaine's gorgeous, but Kurt tries not to stare. Blaine's in the shower…naked. If Blaine peeked out and caught him, he might think it was creepy.

Though after last night, it seems that Blaine might be okay with creepy. Kurt bites his lip and tries not to giggle, because then Blaine would ask what's so funny, and Kurt, who can't lie convincingly on the spot to save his life, might admit that he was thinking about their kiss from last night…or from around 2:30 this morning.

Didn't Blaine say something about kissing some more after they took their history test?

Kurt wonders if Blaine remembers the way he swore he would.

Inside the shower, Kurt sees Blaine wrap a towel around his midsection, and in his mind, Kurt boos. Blaine gathers up his various bottles of shampoo, conditioner, and body wash, and stows them into his net bag. He reaches for the shower curtain to pull it back, then stops, his hand gripping the edge. "Uh…is there another towel out there, Kurt?"

"Let me take a look," Kurt says. He sweeps his eyes around the empty bathroom, at the bench he's sitting on, and the sinks lining the opposite wall. Blaine rarely ever uses the communal bathrooms at Dalton. His _suite_ has a private one, but some issue with the plumbing forced him to use the showers that the majority of the students normally use. When Blaine mentioned that he'd be taking his post-boxing practice rinse in the hallway bathroom, he asked Kurt if he wanted to grab a bench and keep him company.

Kurt nearly jumped out of his skin before the words, "Yes. Yes, of course," made it out of his mouth.

"Uh, no, I don't see one," Kurt says. "I didn't see you bring two in. Just the one."

"Oh," Blaine says, sounding surprised. "Um…would it be incredibly rude of me to ask you to run to my room and get me another one?"

"Of course not," Kurt says, standing from the bench. "Is there some part of your body that one towel doesn't cover?"

Kurt meant it as a joke, but it ended up sounding more R-rated out loud than it did in his head.

"You could say that," Blaine admits with a partial, but slightly self-depreciating, laugh.

Kurt has never heard that insecure a tone in Blaine's voice before. He lingers, thinking he should probably let it go and not embarrass Blaine by pointing it out, but he's too curious.

Blaine's his friend. His _best_ friend. He should find out if something's bothering him.

"Something you want to talk about?" Kurt asks, hovering over the bench, ready to leave in case Blaine says _no_.

"Well, uh…" Blaine starts, then stops again, and Kurt sits back down. It must be something major if it can make Blaine - co-captain of the Dalton Academy Debate Team, currently undefeated eight years running - stammer that way.

"Yeah?" Kurt says, trying to sound encouraging without screaming, " _Tell me! Tell me! Tell me!"_ which might not be well received.

"It's just…you haven't seen me, yet…"

Kurt gasps quietly. No, Kurt hasn't seen Blaine naked. He hasn't even seen him shirtless. That's probably what Blaine wants the other towel to cover – his upper half. So, maybe Blaine is as insecure about his body as Kurt is? Kurt wouldn't have thought so. Blaine always seems so much more comfortable in his skin than Kurt.

"…without an incredible amount of gel in my hair."

Blaine finishes his statement while Kurt is still mulling over the idea of Blaine not wanting Kurt to see him naked, so Kurt doesn't grasp his meaning right away.

But when he does, Kurt finds himself caught between reactions, neither one better than the other.

"Wait," Kurt says, "that's what this is about? You don't want me to see you gel-less?"

"Well…not exactly, I guess, but…" Blaine sighs, unable to come up with a more plausible excuse than the truth. "Yeah. Yeah, it is."

Kurt snickers, feeling awful when he sees Blaine's shoulders droop.

"You really didn't think I thought the way you glue your hair down is _natural_ , did you?" Kurt teases.

"No," Blaine replies. "No, I didn't. I just think…you know…you might not like the way it looks…without the gel."

Kurt stops laughing when Blaine doesn't tease him back. He didn't realize till now how much of an issue this is for Blaine. But Blaine has to have showered in front of other guys before. He's in at least three different organized sports teams on campus. People have to have seen his hair come un-glued at some point.

Or maybe Blaine's not worried about those other guys seeing him gel-free. Maybe it's specifically _Kurt's_ opinion that matters.

After their kiss, after the promise of _more_ , Kurt kind of hopes that's the case.

"Blaine, honey," Kurt says sympathetically, "I'll go get you that towel if you really want me to, but I promise, I'm not going to make fun of you or anything." Kurt stands from the bench and approaches the shower, putting a hand lightly over Blaine's where it still grips the edge of the curtain. "It would mean a lot if you shared this with me."

Blaine doesn't answer, but he's thinking so loudly, Kurt can hear it, up until Blaine exhales.

"Alright," Blaine says. "Alright, just, please…try not to laugh?"

"I won't laugh. I would never," Kurt promises, letting go of Blaine's hand and taking a step back to give Blaine room. Kurt goes the extra step of training his gaze toward the floor, and waits for Blaine to appear.

When Blaine steps out of the shower - his skin damp, covered by a towel from the waist down, leaving much of his well-defined body exposed - his hair is the last thing on Kurt's mind. In fact, it takes Kurt a moment to remember that _that's_ where he's supposed to be looking. Kurt is fiendishly thankful that Blaine is too pre-occupied to notice how his eyes stop midway up his body and hang there, tracing the lines of his abs for a minute too long. Blaine shifts uncomfortably in anticipation, and Kurt's gaze jumpstarts again, traveling up Blaine's body from his torso to his head. There Kurt sees an attractively mussed mess of curls, begging for Kurt to touch them.

"May I?" Kurt raises a hand, but waits for permission. Blaine nods, and Kurt reaches out, burying his fingers into Blaine's curls. They're cool and silky, and just another aspect of Blaine for Kurt to adore. "And…what exactly am I not supposed to like about this?" Kurt asks, running his fingers through the tangle of Blaine's locks. Touching Blaine's hair like this, combing through it with his fingers, feels oddly intimate in a way that has nothing to do with the fact that Blaine just came out of the shower and is wearing only a towel.

It feels like getting to know him from a whole different perspective – a less guarded one.

"Mmm," Blaine hums, leaning in to Kurt's touch as Kurt's fingertips massage his scalp with every pass. "Just wait. You haven't seen it _completely_ air-dry. And with the humidity in here, it's going to get worse."

"How much worse?" Kurt asks, sounding suddenly serious.

"Well, have you ever seen Jiffy Pop popcorn?" Blaine asks, his smile shy even as his eyes focus in on Kurt's lips. "How it quadruples in size before you take it out of the foil?"

Kurt laughs, lost in that image of Blaine's hair getting bigger and bigger as it dries, so much so that he almost misses Blaine's arm slip around his waist, pulling him closer.

"We should probably get you away from all of this steam then," Kurt suggests, seeing the first of Blaine's dry, baby fine hairs, spring away from his fingers to rejoin the collective.

"Yup," Blaine agrees, his boyish bashfulness bleeding into a look so sultry that Kurt can't help but notice. "Well, then maybe we can go back to my room and continue our conversation from this morning."

Kurt raises an eyebrow.

"So you _do_ remember?" Kurt asks, actually impressed.

"Did you honestly think I was going to forget? That kiss was…"

"Short," Kurt cuts in.

"…amazing," Blaine finishes. "And like I said, I've wanted to do that forever." Blaine realizes how close to Kurt's lips he's inadvertently gotten and tightens his grip around Kurt's waist. "I'll bet it's going to be much better now that I'm awake."


End file.
